


Tug At My Heartstrings

by TheNameIsBritney



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Violinist Blaine, Violins, Vogue Employee Kurt Hummel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNameIsBritney/pseuds/TheNameIsBritney
Summary: As he got closer to the man, wallet already in hand to give him a tip, Kurt stopped in his tracks. Because the busker who was playing the violin so beautifully on the streets of his neighbourhood at just past 6pm on a Wednesday night was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen.Or Kurt sees Blaine playing violin on the streets and asks him to give him violin lessons because he's so smitten.
Relationships: Blaine Anderson/Kurt Hummel, Past Blaine Anderson/Sebastian Smythe - Relationship
Comments: 17
Kudos: 95





	Tug At My Heartstrings

**Author's Note:**

> i would highly recommend listening to the violin covers Blaine is playing!! i embedded them in the fic and the people playing the covers are actually phenomenal 
> 
> first cover: Somewhere Only We Know by Keane
> 
> second cover: Bury a Friend by Billie Eilish

He isn’t usually there. That was the first thing Kurt thought when he saw the man playing the violin while walking home after work. 

The [ sound ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vbv-xyiWTRI) of Keane’s _Somewhere Only We Know_ filled Kurt’s ears, making him glad that his earphones ran out of battery at work, forcing him to walk home in silence. There were barely any people on the streets of his neighbourhood, leaving Kurt to enjoy the pleasant sounds alone. 

As he got closer to the man, wallet already in hand to give him a tip, Kurt stopped in his tracks. Because the busker who was playing the violin so _beautifully_ on the streets of his neighbourhood at just past 6pm on a Wednesday night was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. 

Kurt could see his dark hair succumbing to the humid air of New York City in July and beginning to escape the hold of whatever product the man had used. He was wearing a tight polo shirt and a bowtie (Kurt vaguely noted that he was dressed much nicer than a lot of the other street performers and buskers he’d seen during his time in New York), the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his arms that are holding up his violin and bow.

Kurt had never in his life found himself wishing that he were an inanimate object… but watching the way the busker so delicately held his violin had him wondering. 

As Kurt got closer, he realised that the violinist’s eyes were closed, his entire body gently swaying along to the music as he played. Kurt stopped to admire him, a $20 bill rolled up tight in his palm, ready to be dropped in the violin case propped open in front of the man.

“Hi.” 

_Oh, God_. Kurt hadn’t realised he’d spoken until the violinist opened his eyes, revealing the most beautiful hazel eyes Kurt had ever seen. He stopped playing and smiled, lowering his violin and bow. “Hello.” His voice was soft, gentle. Not unlike the music he was playing just seconds ago.

“Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Kurt said. He could already feel a blush rising to his cheeks. “I just wanted to say, um… you’re really good.” 

The man grinned and Kurt stopped breathing for a second. “Thank you! That’s really kind.” He transferred his bow to the same hand as his violin and held out his now free hand to Kurt. “My name’s Blaine.”

Kurt smiled, shaking Blaine’s hand firmly. “Kurt.”

“Nice to meet you,” the violinist -- _Blaine --_ said, “you live around here?” 

“Yeah, I do. Just down the road.” Was it wise to tell this man, this absolute _stranger_ , approximately where he lived? Probably not. But Kurt felt an inexplicable amount of _trust_ with Blaine. “I’ve never seen you around here before.”

Blaine shrugged. “Yeah, I don’t normally do this, I just thought…” Blaine sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I was having a rough night and music always makes me feel better, so… I thought I’d come out here and share. No one’s told me to shut up or that I sound horrible yet so…” 

“You don’t!” Kurt blurted out, “sound horrible, I mean. You play beautifully.” The smile Blaine gave him in return made Kurt feel 100 pounds lighter. 

“Well, thank you,” Blaine said. Kurt wondered if he was imagining the light pinkness in Blaine’s cheeks or if it was actually there. 

“I’ve always wanted to learn how to play the violin,” Kurt said without thinking, confusing even himself. _No, I haven’t_. “It’s a beautiful sounding instrument.” 

Blaine raised his eyebrows, in surprise or glee, Kurt wasn’t sure. “It’s never too late to learn,” Blaine replied happily. “I could…” 

Oh?

“You could…?” Kurt asked quietly. 

“I was just gonna say, I could… I could teach you,” Blaine said, wrinkling his nose in a way that Kurt thought was too cute to be legal. “But that’s a little forward.”

 _Is it too forward to ask you to marry me?_ Kurt thought. “A little forward, yeah…” Kurt paused, the $20 bill still pressed tightly to the inside of his palm. “Anyway…” 

There were a million things Kurt could’ve said in that moment. He could’ve said _yes, I’d love it if you taught me!_ Or he could’ve said _I’m not all that interested in the violin, but I am interested in you_ (but let’s be realistic, Kurt never would’ve said that). 

But instead, he dropped the $20 into the violin case and gave Blaine a tight, nervous smile, barely registering the look of surprise that came across his face as he repositioned his violin underneath his chin. “Have a good night!” Were Kurt’s final words before he turned and began walking away briskly, fighting the urge to smack himself upside the head.

Hopefully he’d get another shot tomorrow. 

* * *

Kurt stared dismally out the window next to his desk, willing the rain to stop. He tried to tell himself that he wanted the rain to stop for purely _convenience_ -related reasons but he knew that wasn’t the only reason why. If the rain persisted, it was highly likely that Blaine wouldn’t be out playing again, and the last memory he would ever have of Kurt would be him awkwardly throwing a $20 bill into his violin case and running away like a celebrity-obsessed teenager meeting their idol for the first time.

“Why so glum, sweetie?” 

Kurt turned towards Isabelle and mustered up a small smile. “No reason… I just hate the rain.” Isabelle hummed sympathetically. 

“Ugh, I know what you mean. I can practically feel my hair starting to frizz as we speak.” Isabelle stroked her curls gently. “but that’s not the only reason, is it?” 

“It’s like you’re telepathic or something,” Kurt huffed, though he chuckled when Isabelle propped herself up on his desk and looked at him expectantly. “It’s nothing, honestly. There’s just this guy who busks sometimes near where I live and I was hoping to see him today.”

“Ohh, pray tell?” Isabelle said with a cheeky smile. Kurt rolled his eyes.

“There’s nothing more _to_ tell! He just… I saw him for the first time yesterday and I thought he played really well. I was just wondering if he’d be out today.” Kurt sighed heavily, “but I guess with the rain, he won’t be.”

Isabelle tutted, glancing at the window at the raindrops that seemingly paid no mind to Kurt’s dilemma. “That’s a shame,” Isabelle said softly, hopping off of Kurt’s desk. “Was he cute?” 

Kurt’s blush was answer enough as Isabelle cackled and walked into her office, shutting the door behind her.

Kurt laughed lightly and sighed, resting his chin on his palm and looking out the window, watching as two raindrops raced their way down to the window sill.

* * *

The day ended but the rain did not. Kurt stood at Vogue’s front entrance and sighed heavily, his emergency umbrella in hand, staring out at the rain with a glare on his face. 

“Have a good evening, Mr. Hummel,” Stan, the building security officer, said to him with a pleasant wave. Kurt sighed and returned the wave but opened his umbrella, stepping out into the rain. 

“I’m not counting on it,” he mumbled under his breath, wincing as he immediately stepped in a puddle. 

The subway ride was unpleasant. Hot and humid, with damp New Yorkers pressed practically wall-to-wall. Kurt grimaced when a business man in an ill-fitting suit pressed a _little_ too close to him. 

Kurt inhaled deeply when he finally got off the train, brushing the wrinkles and commuter residue off of his shirt. As he walked up the stairs to the street, he noticed that the rain had stopped. He shook out his umbrella and stalwartly ignored the way his heart began to beat slightly faster. 

_If the rain had stopped, then maybe…_

Kurt brushed the voice away as he busied himself with checking his phone. Three texts from Rachel asking when he’d be home and if it was too late to pick up some oat milk from the supermarket near his office (it was), a few Instagram notifications, and a text from his dad asking him to send him his french toast recipe. 

When he inevitably passed the corner where Blaine had been last night, Kurt forced himself not to feel disappointed when he wasn’t there. Instead, he put his earphones in and put his playlist on shuffle, filling the rest of his walk home with the sweet, soulful sounds of Betty Who.

* * *

A week passed. Every day, Kurt held out hope that he would see Blaine or hear the telltale sound of strings one more time, but each day he was disappointed. So eventually, Kurt started plugging his earphones in again and turning his playlist up as loud as he could stand. 

If he spontaneously added a few random violin covers to his queue, well… that was no one’s business but his own. 

* * *

Kurt didn’t see Blaine again until two and a half weeks later. He momentarily paused his music to watch a video Finn had sent him when he heard a familiar sound floating through the air, slightly muffled behind his earbuds. 

He ripped his earbuds out and rounded the corner, a blinding smile taking over his features when he saw Blaine standing there, eyes closed and violin raised just like it had been the last time Kurt saw him. He was dressed more casually than when they’d first met, in a white long-sleeved shirt with thin black stripes and blue chinos that were cuffed just above his ankle.

He was playing [ a different song ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kf_m79qOkl8) this time, one Kurt didn’t recognise. As Kurt drew closer, he noticed that Blaine’s eyebrows were furrowed and his movements were jerky, almost… aggressive. It was captivating to look at but slightly frightening, all the same. 

Kurt reached for his wallet and pulled out another $20 bill, approaching Blaine slowly, not wanting to interrupt him. He leaned against a lamppost and watched as Blaine played, admiring the way his body moved with the music, almost as if he and his instrument were one. The final notes of Blaine’s son petered out and Kurt fought the urge to clap. 

“That was amazing!” Kurt said, his smile growing when he saw Blaine open his eyes and raise his eyebrows in surprise. 

“Kurt!” Blaine said, a smile growing on his face. _He remembered his name!_ “I didn’t expect to see you.” 

Kurt chuckled and gestured down the road. “Well, I do… live near here. I think I mentioned that the last time I saw you,” he said, biting his lip. What was a natural way to transition… “I haven’t seen you playing in a while.”

A strange look passed over Blaine’s face but it was quickly replaced with a smile. “Yeah, I haven’t… the weather’s been pretty bad, what with the rain and the humidity,” Blaine said, gesturing vaguely with his bow, “but the forecast looked hopeful tonight, so I decided to play for a little while.” 

Kurt hummed, gently kicking the sidewalk with his boot, suddenly bashful for reasons he couldn’t explain. “I have to admit, I kind of missed…” _you_. “...your music. I know I only heard you play once, but it was a nice change.” 

Blaine smiled softly, tapping his bow against his leg gently. “Oh! Thank you.” Blaine bit his lip. “My music missed you as well.” Kurt tried desperately not to feel too pleased. 

“So, I--”

“Are you--”

They both laughed quietly. Blaine gestured for Kurt to go ahead. 

“I was just gonna say…” Kurt trailed off. What _was_ he going to say? “...are you planning on playing again this week? You certainly make my walk home more interesting.” 

Blaine sighed, staring pensively down the street for a second, almost as if he was letting his brain chew through Kurt’s words. For a moment, Kurt thought he’d said the wrong thing. “I… it depends, I guess.” Blaine turned to Kurt and gave him a small smile. “But I’m glad that you like my music so much.” 

Kurt smiled back, though it felt disingenuous. Forced. There was something in Blaine’s gaze that made Kurt’s heart ache. He wanted to ask Blaine if everything was alright. If there was anything he could do to help, but then he was reminded of the fact that they didn’t _really_ know each other. 

Blaine was just a man who played violin on the street, someone Kurt had only even interacted with twice. What made him so special? 

Maybe it was the soft way Blaine smiled. Or the way he’d remembered his name even after they’d only met once. Or the way he threw himself into his music and got lost in the rhythm and strings. It made Kurt want to _know_ Blaine. 

“I was wondering…” Kurt started speaking before his brain caught up with him. Blaine raised his eyebrows and suddenly Kurt felt his words dry in his throat. 

“Mhm?” Blaine hummed, a sweet, inquisitive smile on his face. 

_Just ask him out. Just do it. You’ve asked out guys before!_

“I was wondering if you’d consider…” what Kurt said next was _definitely_ not what he’d meant to say. “...if you’d consider giving me violin lessons.”

“Oh!” A look of surprise crossed Blaine’s face. Evidently, he hadn’t expected Kurt to say that either. “Really?”

Kurt cringed. “Yeah! I-I mentioned it when we met. I’ve been thinking about it and I just decided to go for it. Thought I’d ask you!” 

Blaine gave him a strange smile. “Why me?” 

“Well, you’re the best--” _only,_ “--violinist I know.” Kurt paused, still holding the $20 bill in a tight roll in his palm. _What on earth am I doing?_

Blaine blushed, ducking his head shyly. “You must not know many violinists, then,” he said, though he looked thoroughly charmed. “I… I’d have to…” Blaine cut himself off, looking down at his shoes before looking back up at Kurt, a determined sparkle in his eyes. “You know what? Sure. Why not?” 

“Great! That’s awesome. Um… thank you,” Kurt said with a grin, “I can pay you--”

“--don’t worry about it, Kurt.” The way Blaine’s mouth curled around the consonants in Kurt’s name made a heat bloom in his chest and travel down to his stomach. “Consider it just helping out… a friend.” 

A friend. Were they friends? Kurt pondered the word, his thumb idly stroking the edge of the rolled up bill in his hand. He smiled, nodding at Blaine. “Okay, sure. Does this mean we’re friends then?” 

Blaine laughed quietly, looking so delighted that it made Kurt’s heart sore. “Yeah, yeah, I guess it does. If you want to be.” 

“I would.” 

They exchanged numbers and talked a little bit about their schedules, agreeing to text each other when they were free. As Kurt walked away, he heard Blaine begin to play once more. The tune was softer and more soulful than the one he’d been playing before. It made Kurt feel like he was floating on air. 

* * *

**_From: 212-493-0793, 6:49pm:_ **

_Hey, Kurt! It’s Blaine :) just messaging you so you have my number!_

Kurt ignored the rush of excitement that coursed through him when he read Blaine’s text. This was _normal._ He was having a normal interaction with a normal guy about _normal things_ . _Calm down, Kurt._

 **_From 212-493-0793, 6:49pm:_ ** **_  
_** _What’s your schedule like? I have class from 9am - 2pm most days and boxing on Wednesdays until like 5pm_

 **_From 212-493-0793, 6:49pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Other than that, I’m pretty much free!_

Kurt bit his lip when he read Blaine’s message. Boxing, huh? He desperately tried not to imagine Blaine in a cliche _Fight Club-_ style boxing ring, sweaty, glistening, and _perfect_. 

He failed.

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 6:50pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Hey, Blaine! I work until 5:45 every day (sometimes until 5 if my boss is feeling generous!) so any time after that would be good :)_

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 6:50pm:_ ** **_  
_** _What do your Thursdays look like?_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 6:52pm:_ ** **_  
_** _They look perfect :)_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 6:52pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Where do you work?_

Kurt raised his eyebrows. He was sure that once they figured out the schedule, that would’ve been the end of the conversation. A smile grew on Kurt’s lips as he typed out his response. He was probably just being polite, but… Kurt let himself ponder a reality where Blaine was just as intrigued by him as _he_ was by Blaine. 

**_From Kurt Hummel, 6:52pm:_ ** **_  
_** _I work at Vogue! I’m Isabelle Wright’s assistant/right hand man_

Minutes passed with no reply from Blaine. The longer he stared at his sent message, the longer he worried he’d somehow said the wrong thing. Did Blaine hate Vogue? How could anyone hate Vogue? Kurt worried about the state of their future (inevitable) relationship if it turned out that Blaine somehow hated the magazine that had basically raised Kurt to be the fashion forward, cultured man he was today. 

**_From Violin Blaine, 6:59pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Omg you’re kidding_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 6:59pm:_ ** **_  
_** _I love Vogue!! That’s so cool that you work there!!!_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 7:00pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Is it as amazing as I’m assuming it is?_

So his anxieties were for naught. Kurt imagined himself as a cartoon, wiping a comically large sweatdrop off of his forehead and nearly lost it, giggling at the image. 

**_From Kurt Hummel, 7:00pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Well, it’s a lot of photocopying, fetching coffee for meetings, and taking notes but… somehow it’s still everything I ever wanted_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 7:00pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Ugh I knew it. That’s amazing, Kurt_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 7:00pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Also: Thursday, then? What time do you wanna start? :)_

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 7:01pm:_ ** **_  
_** _7:30? If you’re interested I could even make you dinner as a thank you_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 7:01pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Sounds perfect_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 7:01pm:_ ** **_  
_** _See you Thursday :)_

Thursday. It was Friday today. That gave Kurt about six days to find a violin within a reasonable price range. Suddenly, all of the butterflies that previously inhabited Kurt’s stomach died. 

* * *

“Who’re you texting?” 

“Just…” he paused, trying to tamp down the smile that he knew was growing on his face. “A potential student.” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge (because he refused to drink from the tap, even though Blaine insisted it was not only cheaper and more environmentally friendly, but also _better_ ). 

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. “What?”

“Nothing! I just thought you were over the music thing,” Sebastian said. Blaine could hear the condescension practically dripping from his voice. “You told me you found an internship at some bank, right? How’d that work out?”

Blaine paused, staring down at his phone at the last text Kurt had sent. He could feel Sebastian’s eyes boring into his skull. “That fell through.” 

“It fell through or you didn’t even try?” 

“Sebastian, can we not fight about this--”

“--Fight about what? How I seem to care more about your career than you do?” 

Blaine laughed humourlessly, throwing his phone on the couch and standing up to face Sebastian. “You don’t care about me or my career, don’t even _try_ and say that to me!” Blaine exclaimed. He could feel his face beginning to flush hot with anger. “You never think about what I want, you only think about yourself.” 

Sebastian scoffed. “I’m not gonna have this childish conversation again just because you keep throwing away good opportunities.”

“You are completely missing my point.” Blaine sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “You know that I don’t want to work in a bank or a law firm or-or your dad’s real estate company. You know that I’m trying to make music into a viable career, why can’t you support me?”

“Because music isn’t going to get you anywhere.” Sebastian took a step toward Blaine, placing his arms on Blaine’s biceps and squeezing, pulling him closer. “I just don’t want you to end up spending all of this time doing something that’s… pointless.” 

Blaine pushed Sebastian back gently, watching as his arms dropped and hung by his sides. “You think my music is pointless?” 

Sebastian sighed. “That’s not what I meant--”

“No, I think I know what you meant,” Blaine muttered, turning towards the hallway and walking towards the music room. 

As Blaine grabbed his violin and his keys, he grit his teeth, wondering why the only person he could think about was Kurt.

* * *

 **_From Violin Blaine, 2:43pm:_ ** **_  
_** _So I was thinking._

The text came unexpectedly in the middle of the afternoon on Saturday, just as Kurt finished his post-lunch work out. He was too warm and dripping with sweat but the text sent an extra shock of adrenaline through Kurt’s chest. 

**_From Kurt Hummel, 2:45pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Should I be worried?_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 2:45pm:_ ** **_  
_** _I don’t think so ;)_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 2:45pm:_ ** **_  
_** _What do you think about getting coffee?_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 2:45pm:_ ** **_  
_** _With me, I mean._

Kurt raised his eyebrows, wiping the sweat off his forehead and grinning down at his phone like a madman. 

**_From Kurt Hummel, 2:45pm:_ ** **_  
_** _I think the ‘with you’ part was implied :)_

 **_From Violin Blaine, 2:46pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Is that a yes?_

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 2:46pm:_ ** **_  
_** _I’d love to get coffee with you._

 **_From Violin Blaine, 2:46pm:_ ** **_  
_** _What are you doing right now?_

* * *

That’s how Kurt found himself, a hot shower and a lot of hair product later, sitting across from Blaine in a coffee shop called the Coffee Project, surrounded by exposed brick and hipsters. 

“I hope I didn’t interrupt your Saturday,” Blaine said, taking a small sip of his drink. Kurt simply shrugged, lifting his own cup to his nose and breathing in the smell of coffee and chocolate. 

“Oh, I wasn’t doing anything,” Kurt said, perhaps too quickly. “I mean… I have a life, it’s just this _particular_ Saturday, I had nothing planned.” Blaine laughed quietly. 

“Good, good…” he paused, staring down at his mug before putting it down on the table and leaning back in his seat, linking eyes with Kurt. “I just wanted to talk a bit, I guess.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, about… our lesson on Thursday.” Blaine gave him a curious smile. 

“Oh! Our lesson. Right.” Kurt said, “I’m super excited! I’m sure you’re a great teacher.” 

Blaine ducked his head, chuckling bashfully. “I… I’ll let you be the judge of that,” he said, a light blush tickling his cheeks. He looked up from underneath his eyelashes. “So, what made you interested in taking violin lessons?”

_You._

“Um… I’ve just always loved how string instruments sounded,” Kurt stammered, running his finger along the handle of his mug. “I think that the violin is such a beautiful instrument, too… always have.”

Blaine hummed, seemingly understanding Kurt’s point. “It is, isn’t it?” He said softly, grinning. 

Kurt nodded, taking a slow sip of his coffee. “Can I ask you a question?” 

Blaine raised his eyebrows and nodded. 

“How did you get into the, um…”

“Busking?” Blaine asked, smiling politely. 

Kurt laughed sheepishly. “Yeah. I wasn’t sure what you preferred to call it.” 

“I…” There was that look again, the one Kurt had seen the night he’d asked Blaine to teach him. That same thoughtful, melancholic expression. “I don’t really know, to be honest. That night you saw me playing was the first time I’d done anything like that.”

Kurt didn’t say anything, deciding to let Blaine figure out his words slowly. He wanted so badly to cover Blaine’s hand with his own and squeeze it, just so he knew he was there. 

“I’d just had a really bad fight with my um… my boyfriend.” Blaine looked up then, as if he were trying to gauge Kurt’s reaction. Kurt nodded, hoping that he didn’t look as disappointed as he felt.

 _Of course he has a boyfriend._

“It was just a dumb fight about… I don’t even remember anymore,” Blaine mumbled, rolling his eyes. “But I just remember wanting to escape for a little while and for a long time, music has helped me do that. So I grabbed my violin and just walked until I found a spot.” 

Kurt bit his lip. “I… I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “is that also why you looked so upset a few days ago? When I saw you playing again?” 

Blaine laughed, but there was no humour in it. It made Kurt’s heart wrench. “Um… my boyfriend is very…” he sighed, staring down into his mug. “We’ve just been together for so long, sometimes it feels like we’re roommates who barely tolerate each other rather than two people who love each other.” He shrugged, giving Kurt a wan smile, almost as if to say _what can you do_? 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Kurt said softly, hoping he sounded genuine. Blaine smiled at Kurt. A small smile, but it was a smile all the same. 

“I don’t know what it is about you, Kurt,” Blaine said quietly, “you make me wanna open up, somehow.” 

Kurt’s breath hitched and he returned Blaine’s smile. “Well, you did say we were friends… right?” 

Blaine’s smile grew and he chuckled, shaking his head fondly. The sight made Kurt’s heart soar. “I guess I did say that.”

Kurt tried not to look too pleased, tamping down his smile just the slightest bit as he swirled his coffee slowly around in his mug. “Besides, I can be a pretty good listener when I wanna be.”

Blaine chuckled again but this time it felt genuine. It felt like a win to Kurt. “So,” Blaine said, sitting forward on the edge of his seat and giving Kurt his utmost attention. “I realised that I don’t really know anything about you.” 

“Oh?”

“Mhm. I know that… you tip street performers _very_ generously,” Blaine said, tapping the rim of his mug. “And I know that you’re interested in the violin. And that you work at Vogue.”

“You know a lot more about me than a couple other people, I’d say,” Kurt replied, “but I’ll bite. I’m Kurt Hummel, 22-years-old, originally from Lima, Ohio--”

“--no way.” Blaine grinned. “I’m from Westerville! Where did you go to school?”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. “I actually went to McKinley high, the breeding ground for ignorant jocks and teenagers with unfortunate mullets.” 

Blaine laughed again, a bright and bouncy sound that made Kurt feel as though sunshine itself were erupting from Blaine’s (beautiful, _beautiful)_ throat. “Wow, that’s… McKinley, huh?” A thoughtful look crossed Blaine’s face. “I think my glee club competed against McKinley a couple times. I went to Dalton Academy.” 

“The warblers?” Kurt asked, “I think I remember you guys. All the blazers and matching ties were kind of hard to miss.” 

Blaine smiled and nodded, almost as though he were preening. “That was us.”

“I remember being in complete awe of you guys,” Kurt said with a quiet chuckle, “except for that one soloist who sang some old One Direction song? No offence, but… yawn.”

Blaine’s smile dimmed but there was an amused twinkle in his eye. “That soloist was… um, _is_ actually my boyfriend.” 

Kurt’s jaw dropped. _Way to go, Mr. Foot-In-The-Mouth._ “Oh. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--”

“--no, don’t worry about it, Kurt, I actually get what you mean.” Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes. “He and I got into a fight about solos that year and I felt guilty so I practically begged the council to give him one of mine. He didn’t even thank me.” 

The air between them turned stagnant and awkward. Kurt found himself missing the easy warmth and camaraderie that they’d been sharing not seconds before. “So…” he said, in a desperate attempt to clear the air. “You sing, too?”

“Well, I used to. Now I’m sort of more focused on getting my degree and… finding a way to make it into a career,” Blaine said, “I actually have to thank you.” 

“Thank me?” Kurt asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion. “What for?” 

“For being my first ever student.” Blaine smiled at him brightly. Kurt grinned right back at him and held up his mug in a ‘cheers’ motion. 

“The first of many, I’m sure.” 

* * *

Procuring a violin was a lot more difficult than Kurt had expected. He’d checked the higher-end music stores that Google recommended him, eyes bugging out of his head whenever he read the tiny price tags in the stores. He’d known instruments were _expensive_ but he never quite expected this. 

That’s when he turned to Craigslist. 

He settled in bed with his laptop and a slightly-too-generous glass of wine and scrolled through the entries, wrinkling his nose at the offers that seemed almost too good to be true.

“$15 for a violin and a case?” He murmured, finishing off the rest of his wine, “probably a murderer.” 

Eventually after what felt like hours of aimless scrolling (but in reality was only twenty minutes), Kurt stumbled across an advertisement that seemed… normal. 

**_Posted 2 days ago  
_ ** **_PROFESSIONAL VIOLIN FOR SALE - Great sound quality  
_ ** **_$100 (East Village)  
_ ** **_Image 1 of 3_ **

The pictures attached showed a beautiful dark brown violin and bow in a case lined with dark blue velvet. Kurt nibbled on his thumbnail as he read the advertisement description. 

_High quality, Revelle 600 brand violin. Beautiful sound quality and professional, polished finish._

_No imperfections, scratches, or cracks. No repairs needed._

_Selling as a set (violin + bow + case) - extra $ for rosin + soft shoulder pad_

_Do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers_

Kurt looked at the description, flipping through the pictures for a few more minutes before clicking on the ‘reply’ button and sending the dealer an email. 

A few hours later, Kurt was surprised to see a response from the seller. He was sure it would take at least a few days. Perhaps the seller was just eager to get rid of his old instrument.

**_From:_ ** [ **_sas592@nyu.edu_ ** ](mailto:ssmythe92@nyu.edu) ****

**_To:_ ** [ **_khummel93@gmail.com_ ** ](mailto:khummel93@gmail.com)

**_Subject: PROFESSIONAL VIOLIN FOR SALE - Great sound quality_ **

_Can you pick up the violin tomorrow? 4pm at the NYU law library._

_Bring exact change._

_Sebastian A. Smythe_

_Fourth year at NYU School of Law_

Well. It wasn’t the most polite or gracious email Kurt had ever received, but… it was short and to the point. Kurt replied with a confirmation of the time and address before putting his phone on his nightstand to charge. 

Soon, he’d be in possession of a violin he really did _not_ need in hopes of ending up with a man he really, really liked. Kurt couldn’t help but feel giddy.

* * *

Kurt grimaced as he felt sweat sliding down the back of his neck as he stood outside the NYU law library, watching as student after student walked in and out, barely giving him a second glance. So far, he’d spotted four people wearing tweed jackets (in July?!), seven pairs of much-too-tight khakis, and more expensive, designer satchels than he could count, and yet… no Sebastian. 

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone, checking to see if he’d received an update email when a pair of sandals entered his line of vision. He looked up and raised his eyebrows when he saw a man who was slightly taller than he was wearing a sanctimonious smirk. His right eyebrow was raised -- almost as if it were permanently stuck that way. 

“Hi. Are you Sebastian?” Kurt asked, forcing a polite smile onto his face. 

Sebastian raised his other eyebrow. “I’m assuming you’re Kurt.” He eyed Kurt up and down, making him feel about four inches tall under his scrutinising gaze. “Don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this.” 

Kurt bristled at the comment, fighting the urge to rear back his head in shock. Instead, he clenched his jaw and smiled sardonically. “Would you mind if I looked over the violin first?” 

Sebastian rolled his eyes but handed him a stark white violin case. Carefully holding onto the case with one hand, Kurt opened it with the other. Just from _touching_ the case, Kurt knew it was expensive. He looked into the case and marvelled at the instrument inside. The late afternoon sun bounced off the polished wood, making it look even more beautiful in person. Kurt briefly wondered if the velvet interior looked slightly familiar but… he figured all violin cases must look pretty similar to one another. 

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Sebastian glanced at Kurt when he spoke, looking slightly irritated by the sudden chatter. “Why are you selling your violin?” 

Sebastian scoffed. “It’s not _my_ violin, it’s my boyfriend’s.” Sebastian paused and Kurt narrowed his eyes. There was something guilty about his expression. “He didn’t want it anymore. Asked me to sell it.”

Kurt hummed and shut the case gently, holding onto the handle as he fished his wallet out of his pocket. “Well… his loss is my gain, right?” he muttered, handing Sebastian two $50 bills. He watched as Sebastian took his time checking the bills in the light, rolling his eyes. 

Eventually, Sebastian pocketed the money and smiled at Kurt before walking away, leaving Kurt feeling… greasy all over. 

* * *

Blaine sighed as he reached his apartment, his thumb rubbing over the notches on his key. He stood in front of the door for a moment, focusing on the sharp metal spikes making their imprint on his finger. 

He hated coming home now. Only because coming home meant walking into another inevitable argument about things that were so pointless and rudimentary that Blaine couldn’t even _believe_ they were fighting about them. 

He knew the relationship was over. It had been for a while. He kept telling himself that today would be the day he finally ended it, and yet he kept pushing it back. Why? He wasn’t sure. 

As he stood there, contemplating his life for far too long, Blaine found himself thinking about Kurt. Kurt who smiled at him like no one had ever smiled at him before. Kurt who’d so sweetly dropped a rolled up $20 bill into his violin case twice before rushing off, leaving behind the faint smell of vanilla and lavender in his wake. 

Trusting, beautiful Kurt who asked him for violin lessons despite barely knowing him. 

Blaine took a deep breath before pushing his key into the door and letting himself in, rolling his eyes when he saw Sebastian sitting on the couch, feet resting on their coffee table. “Sebastian, how many times have I asked you? Don’t rest your feet on the coffee table,” Blaine said as he walked over, pushing Sebastian’s feet to the floor. “My mom bought this for us.” _For me. She bought it for me._

Sebastian barely acknowledged him, typing away furiously on his computer. “Mhm,” he hummed absentmindedly, “how was your day?” The question sounded disingenuous. More out of politeness than genuine curiosity. 

“Fine.” Blaine dropped his keys into the bowl by the TV and grit his teeth. The silence in the air had him on edge. The calm before the storm, he supposed. He walked into the music room and felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. 

His fingers had been practically itching all day to get home so he could plan out his lesson for Kurt. He sat at his desk and pulled out his laptop, dead set on researching typical beginner violinist exercises. 

He looked toward where he kept his violins, gently propped up in their cases against the wall. He knew it made no sense to have two, but they’d both been gifts. One from his father when he’d graduated high school, and one from Sebastian. 

The one from Sebastian had been more of an apology than a gift after a particularly heinous fight. It was like Sebastian could _feel_ how close Blaine was to leaving, to packing his bags and (finally) saying _I’m done, goodbye._

But then Blaine had come home from class and found a brand new violin in a very, _very_ expensive case sitting on the coffee table, with a hastily written note that read _I’m sorry - S_ on it. Blaine didn’t leave that night. He’d put the violin right next to the one his parents had gotten for him. 

Sometimes he looked at it, feeling guilty. He barely ever used it. Sebastian didn’t like it when he played his music in the house and when he’d tried to use it when Sebastian wasn’t home, it had felt wrong. The alignment of the chin rest had never felt quite right and the bow had never fit in his hand in the same way that his old one did. 

So it usually sat next to his Revelle 600, silently collecting dust. Today however, it sat alone against the wall. 

Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. That was strange… he never put his Revelle anywhere but _right there_ (he was very particular about things like that). He looked around the room and frowned when he couldn’t see the white violin case anywhere. 

“Sebastian?” he called, walking out into the living room. Sebastian was sat in the same spot as he’d been before, typing away on his computer, glasses slowly sliding down his nose. Blaine had been telling him to get them re-fitted for months but he never listened. 

“Yes?” Sebastian replied, pushing his glasses up his nose. Blaine thought he saw Sebastian’s shoulders tense. 

“Have you seen my violin?” 

The typing stopped. Sebastian looked up from his laptop. “It’s in your music room, isn’t it?” 

Blaine shook his head. “No, it’s not there.” 

“I… you have two violins, why can’t you just use the one I gave you?” Sebastian asked. Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. 

“How did you know which one I was looking for?” Blaine asked. Sebastian’s eyes widened.

“I… you… I just knew, what’s the big deal?” Sebastian closed his laptop and got up, walking towards the kitchen. Blaine followed close behind. 

“Sebastian, I’m being serious, you know how important that violin is to me,” Blaine said, moving to stand in front of Sebastian. “Where is it?” 

Sebastian clenched his jaw, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. “I don’t get it, you have a perfectly good violin, why can’t you just use that one?” 

“That violin was a gift from my dad, Sebastian,” Blaine said slowly. He could feel his hands beginning to shake. “I’m going to ask you one more time. Where is it?” 

Sebastian sighed, looking away from Blaine. “I sold it. Okay? Is that the answer you wanted?” Before Blaine could respond, Sebastian shoved past him and walked back to the living room. “If I’d known you’d be this pissy about it--”

“Pissy?!” Blaine was sure if he were a cartoon character, he would’ve had steam coming out of both ears. “How the hell else am I supposed to react to the news that my boyfriend sold one of the only gifts I’ve ever received from my father? Did you expect me to just accept it and move on?” 

“Jesus, I’m sorry, okay?! But you have a perfectly good one that I bought you that you _never_ use! I’m sorry that me selling your violin made you upset but you don’t need both of them!” 

Blaine paused, taking a moment to collect himself. “Are you even hearing yourself?” he asked quietly, “how can you even _begin_ to justify selling one of my personal belongings to some random person and then come home feeling good about yourself?”

Sebastian didn’t respond. The silence between them was deafening, crackling with tension and unspoken words. As Blaine looked at Sebastian he felt all of the energy leave his body. 

It was over. 

“You need to leave.” The words left Blaine’s lips on their own accord, expanding and filling the space like a smoke bomb. Sebastian didn’t even look surprised. 

“Over a fucking violin, Blaine? Seriously?” he asked. 

“If you cared about me at _all_ , you’d know that that violin wasn’t just a fucking violin to me, Sebastian.” Blaine hoped that his voice wasn’t as shaky as his nerves felt. “I’m done with you."

Sebastian scoffed and walked over to the couch, picking up his laptop and skulking off towards the bedroom to pack a bag. When he heard the bedroom door slam behind him, Blaine breathed out shakily, sitting on the couch and covering his face with his hands. 

He knew he was supposed to feel sad, but… somehow instead, he felt ten pounds lighter.

Blaine felt his phone buzz in his pocket, bringing him back to the real world. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and smiled when he saw a text from Kurt. _What impeccable timing._

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 6:34pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Okay, I think the internet is actually spying on me because look what I just found!! [link]_

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 6:34pm:_ ** **_  
_** _It’s a little enamel pin of a cat playing the violin. Isn’t that cute? Haha_

Blaine felt the tension leave his body slowly as he read Kurt’s texts, laughing despite himself.

 **_From Blaine Anderson, 6:34pm:_ ** **_  
_** _It’s adorable_

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 6:35pm:_ ** **_  
_** _I’m glad you think so because I may or may not have bought it._

 **_From Kurt Hummel, 6:35pm:_ ** **_  
_** _Think of it as payment for the lessons (meagre payment but still)_

The smile never left Blaine’s face as he continued to text Kurt, even as he heard Sebastian stomp around their bedroom, packing a bag. He tried to think of other things, like cat-shaped enamel pins, and beautiful blue eyes. 

**_From Blaine Anderson, 6:36pm:_ ** **_  
_** _You really didn’t have to, Kurt._

 **From Blaine Anderson, 6:36pm:** **  
**_But thank you :)_

* * *

“Kurt, can you stop moving for five seconds? You’re giving me vertigo.” 

Kurt ignored Rachel’s voice and walked over to the coffee table, straightening out the books and the lone cactus for what felt like the hundredth time. He turned to Rachel and looked at her, a panicked expression on his face. “You’re still here. Why are you still here? You told me you were going for drinks with your castmates tonight.” 

Rachel raised her eyebrows and checked her watch. “It’s 6:30, Kurt, the bar we wanna go to doesn’t even open until 7.” She walked over to Kurt and took his hands, forcing him to look at her. “You need to calm down.” 

Kurt sighed and yanked his hands away from hers. “I’m _fine_. I just don’t want Blaine thinking we’re the kind of people who don’t use coasters,” he said, placing a coaster underneath the mug Rachel had been drinking from earlier. “Also, why don’t you use the damn coasters?” 

Rachel rolled her eyes. “Because when we got this coffee table from the flea market, it was more scratches and stains than wood. I’m sorry if I didn’t think it mattered.” 

Kurt glared at her as he wiped at the imaginary stain the mug left behind. “Just… go get ready. That’s not what you’re wearing is it?” 

“Okay, you’re getting all mean. You’re nervous.” 

“What do I have to be nervous about?” Kurt asked, placing his hands on his hips as he stood up to look at her. “He’s just a friend coming over to teach me how to play violin.”

Rachel smirked. “I didn’t mention _him_ at all. You came to that conclusion all on your own.” She walked over to him and gently cupped his face in her hands, squeezing his cheeks lightly. “He’s going to like you, okay? Regardless of whether or not we use coasters on our coffee table.” 

Kurt sighed and nodded, breathing in the familiar smell of her perfume. “Thanks, Rach,” he mumbled. He could feel heat rising to his cheeks. He _was_ being kind of ridiculous. “It doesn’t matter if he cares about coasters or not, he has a boyfriend.” 

Rachel gave him a cheeky smile as she turned to retreat to her bedroom. “That’s never stopped anyone before,” she called in a sing-songy voice, leaving Kurt to gape at her, scandalised. Before he could respond, he heard her door close and he was left alone. 

He looked around his pristine living room and allowed himself to relax. In all honesty, it didn’t matter whether or not Blaine liked his home. He had a boyfriend. But even still, Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about how Blaine had looked in the coffee shop. 

Kurt wasn’t a connoisseur of dating to be sure, but he’d been in a relationship or two before. The resentment and exhaustion on Blaine’s face hadn’t screamed _happily coupled with a wedding and two kids on the way_ to him. 

He groaned and tried to shove the thoughts aside, retreating to the kitchen to check on the dinner he’d promised he’d make for Blaine as payment for their lessons. He stirred the chilli in the pot and took a deep breath in. Yep, it _still_ smelled delicious. 

Well, that was it then. Kurt was officially out of distractions. He glanced at his phone and grimaced. Still an hour and a half until Blaine was due to arrive. 

The time did not pass quickly.

* * *

When the doorbell finally rang, Kurt took a deep breath out and slowly walked over to the door. He checked himself in the reflection of his phone screen briefly before sliding open the door. A smile immediately grew on his face when he found Blaine on the other side, smiling awkwardly. 

“Hey, Blaine!” Kurt said, waving Blaine inside. He quietly admired his arms which were laden with his violin, another long thin canvas bag, and a satchel before rushing to help grab some of his things. “Let me help you.” 

He watched Blaine walk further into his apartment and couldn’t help the rush of excitement that coursed through him at the fact that he had a cute boy _in his house_ for the first time in… Kurt didn’t even want to _think_ how long. Never mind that the cute boy was tragically unavailable. 

“Thanks,” Blaine said, handing Kurt the canvas bag and carefully setting his violin down on the floor. He looked around Kurt’s living room and smiled. “So… this is what your place looks like?”

Kurt raised his eyebrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Blaine blushed, looking at Kurt with a shrug. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I promise,” he said, “you’re just so enigmatic and interesting… I couldn’t help but wonder what your place was like.” 

“Oh.” Kurt felt heat rise to his cheeks at the comment. _Interesting?_ _That’s a compliment, right? Certainly better than being boring._

“Was that creepy? I’m sorry, I’m not really thinking straight.” Blaine rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.” 

“No, no it wasn’t creepy at all.” Kurt smiled and set the bag on the couch carefully, “no one’s ever called me interesting before. Weird and girly, definitely, but never interesting.” 

“Well, that’s a crime,” Blaine said softly, gazing at Kurt with an unreadable look that made his knees buckle (almost). Kurt cleared his throat and tried not to squeal like an excited fan meeting their idol for the first time. 

“Thank you, then,” Kurt mumbled, biting his lower lip gently. “Are you hungry? I made chilli.” 

“Oh! You really didn’t have to,” Blaine said, though Kurt could see his eyes automatically rove towards the kitchen where he knew delectable smells were coming out of. Kurt smiled and shook his head.

“I already told you I would, as payment for the lessons,” Kurt replied, beckoning Blaine to the kitchen. He dutifully followed close behind, leaning against the doorjamb as Kurt grabbed two bowls from the cupboard. 

Blaine chuckled. “I thought the cat enamel pin was payment for the lessons.” 

Kurt gave Blaine an incredulous look as he scooped a helping of rice and chilli into one of the bowls. “Consider that a tip for your good work,” Kurt said, handing Blaine a bowl and watching as he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. 

Blaine groaned softly at the smell, tipping his head back just slightly and allowing Kurt to admire the veins in his neck. _It was a very nice neck, okay?_ “I know I said you didn’t have to do this but I’m glad you did. Thank you, Kurt.”

They quickly finished eating, sharing quick tidbits about their weeks and days. Kurt couldn’t shake how natural it felt, talking to and being around Blaine. It was invigorating. As soon as their bowls were polished off and tea was made for the both of them (and placed on top of vintage, wooden coasters), they sat down on Kurt’s couch and Blaine placed his violin in his lap. Kurt furrowed his eyebrows.

“Is that the one you normally perform with?” Kurt asked, “I thought your case looked different.” 

Blaine sighed, his fingers tightening around one of the clasps on the violin case as he snapped it open. “No, this is a different violin than I normally use,” he said tightly, “my other one… I’d really rather not get into it, if that’s alright.” 

“Oh,” Kurt said quietly, “yeah, of course. I’m sorry I asked.” 

Blaine sighed, shaking his head apologetically. “No, I’m sorry I snapped. I’m not angry at you, I’m just… frustrated. At things that are completely unrelated to you and our lessons.” 

Kurt hesitated before scooting the slightest bit closer to Blaine, placing a tentative hand on his wrist. “I don’t want to overstep, but… you can talk to me if you want.” 

Blaine looked down at Kurt’s hand and paused for a second before covering it with his own. “The violin that you saw me use is… _was_ a gift from my dad. He gave it to me when I graduated high school,” Blaine started. Kurt could see the way his jaw clenched as he spoke and he itched to tenderly cup that jaw in his hand and rub away the tension. “He and I are… when I told him I wanted to study music in college instead of business, he and I fought. A lot. He told me I was throwing my life away and that if I wanted to be a failure, that he wouldn’t fund it.”

Kurt thought back to his own father. Thought back to soft flannels and bone crushing hugs that made him feel _safe_ and protected. Remembered how unbelievably supportive he’d been when he told him he wanted to pursue fashion. He thought about his own father and his heart _ached._

“Anyway, the day of my graduation came and I fully expected him not to be there, but when I was walking across the stage I looked out to where I knew my mom and my brother would be sitting and I saw him sitting there right next to them.” A smile grew on Blaine’s face, complemented by a wet sparkle in his eyes. “That was the happiest day of my life, I think.”

Kurt couldn’t help but smile at the image of a teenaged Blaine in his cap and gown, grinning out at the audience, full of joy and optimism, running out onto a field of some sort to hug his family and celebrate his first big milestone. 

“That’s beautiful, Blaine,” Kurt said quietly. Blaine sighed and smiled, squeezing Kurt’s hand lightly. 

“It was. After the ceremony, I saw them waiting for me by the stage, and I remember running over to them and hugging them all so _tightly_ . It was everything I’d ever wanted,” Blaine took a shaky breath in, “and then my dad stepped forward and pulled out this _beautiful_ white violin case from behind his back and presented it to me. Inside it was my _dream_ violin. To this day, I don’t know how he managed to figure out the exact model I wanted. He said _‘I can’t control what you do with your life, but I can at least control how you do it’_.

“That violin was the one I was using when we met. And when you saw me again a few weeks later.” Blaine stopped speaking then. The tension returned to his shoulders and Kurt cautiously placed his free hand between Blaine’s shoulder blades, rubbing slowly. “The other day when I got home, I found out that my boyfrie- my _ex_ -boyfriend had sold it. It was for some bullshit, petty reason, I don’t know.”

“Oh, my god, Blaine… I’m so sorry,” Kurt said. He couldn’t even enjoy the newly given knowledge that Blaine was single, he was too infuriated by the sudden turnaround the story had taken. “That’s awful!” 

Blaine sighed and rubbed a hand across his face quickly before leaning back, giving Kurt a smile and a shrug. “Anyway, that’s why I’m using a different violin than normal,” Blaine laughed self-deprecatingly, looking up at Kurt with an earnest smile. Kurt swallowed thickly when he realised just how close they were. “God, that’s the second time I’ve just… completely overshared to you, I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t apologise at all,” Kurt said quietly, “I’m glad that you’re comfortable enough to tell me about these things, despite the fact that we’ve only known each other for, what… three weeks?” 

“It feels like I’ve known you my whole life,” Blaine murmured, his thumb rubbing Kurt’s knuckles gently. 

Kurt looked down at where their hands were still tangled together and his breath hitched. When he looked back up at Blaine, he saw Blaine’s gaze fixed at a spot on his face, just south of his nose. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip quickly. 

“Blaine…” Kurt breathed. They were sitting _so close_ , their thighs were pressed together from hip to knee. The warmth Blaine was radiating made Kurt feel as though he’d never be cold again.

But still, Kurt _knew_ he shouldn’t kiss him. Blaine had probably just recently broken up with his boyfriend and that pain would still be fresh and _new_ and… and it just wasn’t appropriate. 

Wasn’t it?

The closer Blaine moved towards him, the less those excuses mattered. How could they when there was this _beautiful_ man who smelled like cinnamon and freshly done laundry sitting _right next to him_? So, Kurt leaned in too. 

He felt the lightest of touches against his lips, one press, then another, then another, before he felt a hand cupping his cheek, pulling Kurt impossibly closer. Kurt inhaled sharply at the firm pressure against his lips and he threw an arm around Blaine’s shoulders. Blaine’s lips were smooth and warm against his own. Kurt briefly noted how they tasted just the slightest bit like the chilli they’d just eaten. Normally, that would’ve been a turn off but on Blaine it tasted a hundred times better. 

He felt Blaine’s tongue gently trace the seam of his lips and he opened his mouth, a quiet moan inadvertently slipping out as he did. Kurt could feel his nose squish against Blaine’s face as he tried to press himself closer to him (closer to that amazing, _warm_ pressure), but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at all. 

Kurt let out a quiet grunt as he kneeled up on the couch and threw his other leg across Blaine’s lap so he was effectively straddling him. He smiled down at Blaine who was watching him with awe sparkling in his eyes before leaning down and kissing him again. He bit down on Blaine’s bottom lip gently, inwardly celebrating when he heard Blaine moan. 

“Oh, god,” Blaine mumbled, pulling away from Kurt’s lips to press a trail of kisses up his jaw towards his neck. He sucked and Kurt swore he saw stars. “We should probably slow down.” 

“Ugh, why?” Kurt whined, letting his eyes flutter shut as he focused on the delightful suction on his neck. He felt Blaine’s teeth grazing against his skin and a breath cooling the wet spot he’d left behind. Kurt shivered and pulled away, narrowing his eyes at Blaine half-heartedly. “Are you laughing at me?”

“I can’t help it,” Blaine chuckled quietly, pressing their foreheads together. “You are… adorable.” 

Kurt blushed and rolled his eyes. “That’s what every guy wants to hear when they’re sitting on top of a hot guy, that they’re _adorable_.” Blaine laughed again and it set off butterflies in Kurt’s stomach. 

“No, I’m sorry, I just…” Blaine sighed and rested his head against Kurt’s shoulder, kissing it briefly before looking back up. “I don’t wanna rush… this. Whatever _this_ is.” 

Kurt bit his kiss-pink lips. “What _is_ this?” 

Blaine’s hands squeezed his waist as he looked up at him tenderly. “I… I don’t know.” He pulled Kurt closer and kissed him again chastely, “but I know that I like you… and that you feel _phenomenal…”_ he grabbed one of Kurt’s hands and squeezed it. “I also know that you make me feel things that I haven’t felt in… ever, really.” 

Kurt felt a smile infiltrate his features and he looked down at their hands, kissing Blaine’s knuckles lightly. “In that case… you’re forgiven for calling me adorable while we were making out.” 

Blaine laughed and rested his head back against the couch, sighing contently. “Good,” he said, grinning widely. Kurt smiled right back and leaned in close, kissing the apples of his cheeks with a loud, exaggerated ‘mwah’, making Blaine giggle joyfully. 

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that for,” Kurt said happily, wiping at the spit marks he left on Blaine’s face with his thumb. 

“So,” Kurt raised his eyebrows when Blaine spoke again, “do you actually want to learn some violin, or…?” Kurt wrinkled his nose and laughed. 

“Ugh, this is embarrassing,” he mumbled, blushing brightly. “But I only asked for lessons, because… because I thought you were cute.” 

Blaine raised his eyebrows and smirked, placing both hands on Kurt’s hands and slowly moving them up to rest on his hips. “You thought I was cute, hm? How cute?”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Ugh, cute enough that I spent like $100 bucks on a violin _just_ for you,” he said, smiling cheekily. “You should feel grateful.”

“$100 bucks? Wow… I feel positively _beholden_ ,” Blaine laughed, pressing a chaste kiss to Kurt’s lips before frowning when Kurt slid off of his lap suddenly. “Hey, where are you going? I wasn’t done!” 

“I want to show you the violin I bought,” Kurt said as he ran to his room. Blaine heard a few quiet clatters as he waited for Kurt to emerge. Eventually, Kurt left his room, carrying a white violin case in his hand, a bright beaming smile on his face. “I got it off this guy on craigslist. I honestly think he probably undersold me, but… his loss is my gain, right?”

Blaine sat up, furrowing his eyebrows as Kurt carefully placed the case on the coffee table. He sat on the edge of the couch and ran his hands down the contours of the bright white violin case. 

“You said you got this off of craigslist?” Blaine asked. His voice was a million miles away. 

Kurt nodded, watching as Blaine gently touched the case, his fingers working into the grooves of the clasps slowly. “Um… yeah. You’d be surprised how good I am at finding deals.”

Kurt could tell Blaine was barely listening to him as he placed both of his hands on the violin case clasps. He nodded jerkily when Blaine looked at him, silently asking for permission before he undid the latches and opened the case. 

Blaine’s breath hitched when he looked at the violin inside, shakily running his fingers across the strings. Kurt breathed in sharply when he realised.

“Blaine…” Kurt trailed off, the words getting stuck in his throat. 

Blaine silently took the violin out of its case, turning it around in his hands slowly, admiring every curve and bump. He looked at the back of the violin and a smile played on his lips. He looked at Kurt and beckoned him closer, showing him the back of the violin, his fingers tenderly skimming across three letters that were carefully engraved to the bottom. _B D A._

“Those are my initials,” Blaine said, his voice barely above a whisper. “My dad got them engraved for me at some specialist’s place.” 

Kurt swallowed thickly. “Blaine, I… I didn’t know--”

“--out of all the people in the world who responded to that ad,” Blaine said, laughing in disbelief, much to Kurt’s surprise. “He sold my violin to _you_ , Kurt.” 

Kurt felt like he was standing on a tightrope, barely balancing, one misstep away from falling to his demise. “Blaine--” before anymore confused apologies could leave Kurt’s lips, he felt a hand on his face and a pair of lips against his own. He slowly returned the kiss, one hand cupping the back of Blaine’s neck hesitantly. 

When Blaine pulled away, Kurt was surprised to see the brightest of smiles on his face. “I take it you’re not mad?” He asked quietly, a slow smile spreading across his face as Blaine laughed too and dropped his forehead to rest against Kurt’s shoulder. 

“Not mad. Not at _all_.” Blaine pressed a kiss to his shoulder, then to his neck, then his jaw, and finally his cheek. “Just overwhelmed at all of this.” Kurt smiled and stroked Blaine’s cheekbone gently. 

“It feels a little like fate… doesn’t it?” Kurt asked softly. The blinding smile Blaine gave him in return made Kurt feel like he’d said the exact right thing.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “exactly like fate.”

**Author's Note:**

> this took FUCKING AGES to write and i won't lie, i don't even know if it's good because i refuse to read it back. i also don't know anything about violins so i'm sorry if i butchered anything!! i play flute pls dont kill me
> 
> special special BIG OL thanks to my wonderful friends aly (@blaineanderdumbass/blurglesmurfklaine), emily (@kurtstinypurse/dizzywhiz), and beth (@blaineskurt) for letting me endlessly scream about this fic being 'almost done' when it was actually far from done lmao. i love you three so SO much it's unreal 
> 
> also!!! another thank u to EJ (@kuhlaine) for letting me scream at u when i was fucking panicking lmao (thank u for tolerating me and my writing questions, you're amazing <3) 
> 
> it's 3:20am so i'm gonna upload this and go the fuck to bed!!!!!! comments and kudos are always appreciated!!! 
> 
> \- Brit xx


End file.
